a flower brain across the rain,
scents of love mixed up with rage,
love was the feeling of desires,
an eye so blind in times of anger,
whims boiling heavy rain,
my flower brain can touch, can smell,
forever wet, always in the motion of the mind,
electric juice to pour a web of luxury and vivid gaze,
scarves of woody oils, petrol and water,
steams of refreshing scents indulge the body of your reign,
gentle rose blooming in the void of the Universe,
red petals melting the coldness up above the sky,
the seed, the blossom of science and genesis,
a shore of steam freezing the burning flames of hell,
it’s a heaven of divine architecture,
the throne and treasures of the magic life,
a rose so red, exploding the structure of the Universe,
decimating, vanishing a galaxy,
time’s wonder would melt and wound my lust.


(Buy my book 'The Allure Of Time' from amazon.)

Your honeysuckle cheeks
Leave the saccharine taste
Of spring on my lips

Snowflakes are floating

between the blossoming trees –


like flower petals.

I dip my fingers in me
thinking of your face.
biting my lips,
figuring out your taste.

you seem like a
drop of sweat on my nape,
honey milk on my waist.

One summer
you shall flow
and the flowers
would glow waiting
for the rains.

Do not haze, neither haste.
the world inside me will tremble,
and so will my skin.

for some stones
now know
how a bud blossom
in the cold snow.

©ladywithpen

Blossom with love and courage into the spring,
that is unalike the one before it, but none the less
full of growth and the sweet scent
of possibilities

Blossom in the light of positivity
for you have carried too much sadness
and cradled too much fear. Aren’t you tired?

Bloom
like all things on earth bloom
Flower into your next life, naturally
unfold

Fluorescence is your call
tenderly guiding you wild flora
into the fauna where you belong
You too are that, which came from earth
and grows from light

Winter beckons a spring,
and it’s your turn wild flora.

I swim in the dark space
between the stars and dust
trying to find the hidden grace
to choose is hard but you must

it's difficult without your shoes
to step on the broken fragments
of the shattered stars and planets

some of them shine bright
while others hide from the light
as the newborn flowers
which blossom at daylight
and close in the silence of night

cracks are in the universe
where flowers squeeze through
the seeds of the soul immerse
themselves in cosmos blue

and I wait until the ice melts
and gather the flowers in dust
to make them blossom in august

Every day is a concussion,
                where I feel that
my thoughts are suffering
                    from blunt force trauma.


Slumped within the confines
                                     of self..
Blood vessels burst in a rainbow
              of fluctuation and I think
                                 was it all worth it.


Should I have let that last thought
                                                haemorrha­ge.

Instead of getting up again and again...

Realising that after the first reaction I should
have stayed down ,Succumbing to the
                                                            even­tuality.  

That I could be what I wanted, what I thought
                 I could become. I was like a flower,

Dying before it blossomed..
                          And all that was left
                              was dead memories
crushed before they could even show
                                            there beauty.

                Now just wilted dreams becoming nightmares.